Broken Phone
by fenyx
Summary: An AU story. Take place after the final of the real serie, but in here Betty never got the job offer and she is still at Mode.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This is an AU story. Take place after the final of the real UB serie, but in here Betty never got the job offer and she is still at Mode. **

**This was going to be a 2 chapt story, but i decided to make it longer.**

**Hope you all lake it! **

**Thoughts and comments would be amazing =) **

**Broken Phone**

When Claire Meade made her way through the ground floor of the Meade building, the last thing she expected was to see her son waiting for the elevator. Not that she didn't like to see him, but he had been out of touch the entire weekend. When she had called him, he hadn't picked up his damn cell phone. What was she, a stranger? Oh, how she would love to have her 10-year-old boy back—she'd teach him that when it comes to his mother, he must always answer the damn phone!

"Good morning, Daniel."

"Hey, Mom," he said, not looking at her.

"You know, honey, when someone calls you, you should answer your cell phone," said Claire, standing beside him.

"Sorry, Mom" Yes, Daniel was more focused on the iPad he held.

"At least you could show some interest in me and explain why you were missing all weekend. And put that damn thing down!"

For the first time in two minutes, Daniel took off his eyes of the iPad, clearly annoyed, but well-aware that his mother was in a mood.

"It's not a 'damn thing,' Mom. It's my new iPad and it's great!" He wore a goofy but proud smile. "And I'm sorry, but I lost my phone Saturday night and that's why you are seeing me with my absolutely cool new iPad."

"You lost your phone? How? Where?" This was very very bad. If her son had personal information in there . . . oh, my God! The press would have a pretty good time with that. Should she start calling the lawyers? "Do I have to call the lawyers?"

"No! Relax. It's just broken. Nothing to worry about."

"How the hell can someone break his cell phone?" If it weren't for the tiny hint of flushed cheeks, some nervous twitching, she would have dropped the case, but she was his mother and something wasn't adding up.

"Where the hell is the elevator?" Daniel looked up above the doors. "What? Don't give me that look, Mom. Stop! You're making me nervous."

"What look? I'm not looking at you, darling" She was just smiling. "And I think the elevator hasn't arrived because you haven't called it yet."

"Oh! Yeah. Yeah, sorry," and with that, he focused again on his new iPad.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Are you going to tell me how you broke your phone?"

Claire was a very patient person when it came to her son. Because she always knew when something was happening, and right now there was definitely something going on.

Struggling, Daniel said, "Tomato sauce."

"What?" Was he cooking? Since when did he cook? "Sorry, darling, but the last time I checked, you don't cook."

"Come on, Mom. I cook. Actually, I'm an amazing chef."

"Yeah, sure . . ."

"Really! Ask Betty if you want."

"Betty?" Now _that_ was promising.

"Yeah. Betty. She gave me a lasagna recipe that I wanted to try this weekend."

"OK, and how did it go?"

"Beside the loss of my phone? Incredible."

"Oh, I see, and who is the lucky lady?"

"Why should there be a 'lucky lady?' Why not just a good friend?"

"Ah, you mean a friend with benefits."

"Mom!" Horrified.

"What, did I say something wrong?"

"Yeah! You can't—"

"STOP THE ELEVATOR! This is life or death, people!"

"Marc?" Mother and son turned to see a very sweaty and tired fashionista man running toward them.

"What's going on? Everything ok?" Daniel reached to grab one of the many tiny boxes Marc was carrying. "What's all this?"

"Wilhelmina . . ." Marc tried to catch his breath.

"What? She wanted more Botox?" Claire said. "Marc, darling, you are not her assistant anymore."

"Yeah, well, she uses quality stuff, you know. She gives me the rest."

"You use Botox?"

"Hey, look the elevator is here!" Marc said, escaping in to the elevator, followed by the two Meades.

"So, how is Amanda?" asked Claire. "It's been awhile since I haven seen her."

"Who knows with my Mandy Candy. She is always here . . . and there and who knows?" His voice was raspy, his tone distracted.

"Come on, Marc, you live with Amanda. You guys talk and yell all the time." Daniel remained absorbed in his iPad.

"And how would you know? It's been awhile since you've been over."

This is something, thought Claire, focusing her attention on her son's reaction.

Was it her imagination, or was Daniel's neck sweating? Oh my, this was getting really good.

"What are you talking about, man? I had been there." Daniel's voice was very high and nervous. Yes, his neck was definitely sweating.

The conversation halted when the elevator stopped and the doors began to open.

"Good morning, bitches!" said Amanda, swaying her butt with pure style. "Oh! Not you, mama Meade—these other two."

"Mandy!".

"Hey, Marqui Marc".

"Don't call me that."

"You bet!"

"What are you doing here?" Marc asked her. "How many times do I have to tell you—you don't work for Mode anymore."

"But Marqui, I was looking for you! I have the gossip of all gossip! Bigger than the Wilhelmina/Connor sex/romance gossip!"

"Everything OK, dear?" Oh, Claire loved rumors—what better way to start the day than with rumors? And even better if they had to do with that bitch Wilhelmina. She still hated her because of Tyler.

"Oh, Mrs. Meade, it's not just OK. It's more than OK. It's great! Our little Betty had a very wild weekend." Lowering her voice, she continued. "With lots and lots of lasagna and tomato sauce."

"Eww, Mandy! Don't put those images in my head!"

"What? Come on, Marc. Don't be jealous. Just because you had your syrup/grape fiasco with Trevor . . ."

"To much information, Amanda! Focus focus on Betty!" said Marc, more red than her son, Claire noticed. "And it's Troy."

"Whatever." Now Amanda looked at Claire. "The thing is, I gave Betty my family's lasagna recipe last week and you know? We are besties and all, so I went this Sunday to her apartment to take some of her scarves and guess what? The entire kitchen was a mess with tomato sauce."

"Tomato sauce?" asked Claire.

"Yeah! You know, all my young life I struggled to keep my body because my dad's lasagna was the best, and he and my non-mom always tried to make me eat it!"

"Amanda, darling. Focus, please. Tomato sauce?" said Claire in a very high tone.

"Yeah! And the best part is that when I get to her room there was this amazing and absolutely wonderful butt and—"

"Mandy!"

"Not Betty's, Marc! She was in the shower!"

"OH, MY! Go on, go on!"

"And nothing!"

"You're kidding me, woman! All this for nothing! At least tell me that you saw something!"

As Mark and Amanda were arguing about whether she had seen something more important than a butt, Claire looked at her son. Who was not red, but rather purple, hands and neck sweating and definitely refusing to look at her.

"Stop," he said.

"Stop what?"

"You are staring at me."

"I don't know what are you talking about," she said with gleeful whisper.

"And the Orion Belt!" Amanda gasped.

"What?" Claire looked at Amanda as Daniel almost dropped his cool new iPad.

"Orion Belt?" she asked.

"Yeah, well, he was completely covered except for his butt and one leg and his right cheek? OMG! He had this super sexy birthmark—three spots that looked just like the constellation of Orion Belt."

"You are kidding me, Mandy!"

"I swear, Marqui, I'm not! It was super hot!"

"OMG! I'm totally going to try and see that butt," Marc said, before grabbing Amanda's hand, ready to drag her toward Betty's office when the elevator doors opened.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"That was interesting," said Claire, now that she and Daniel were alone in the hallway.

"What?" Daniel's voice was small.

"Well, honey, I always thought that because of your encounters with Amanda, she would have known about your butt birthmark. I guess I was wrong." And with that, she made her way to her office with a smile in her face.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**I really hope you like it! your comments are my pay =)**

**There are already 3 chapts, but let me know if you want more!**

**Fer**


	2. Broken Phone The Orion Belt

**Hi everyone! Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm so exited! Hope you all like this new chapt and to hear what you think about it!**

**Broken Phone "The Orion Belt"**

"Hello, Betty," said Claire Meade that morning in the women's bathroom. Betty, standing by the sink, jumped in surprise.

"Mrs. Meade!" Betty took her hand over her chest. "Hi. You just scared me."

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry." Claire sat down on the bathroom stools. "It's just that I saw you coming in here and wanted to say hi. It's been a while since I have seen you. How have you been?"

"Great, actually. Pretty amazing" said Betty, smiling as she washed her hands.

"Amazing, hmm?" Claire stood up and went to the sink. "Amazing is good. Any particular reason?"

"Hmm, nope. General things, I think." Although Betty was still smiling, Claire noticed a hint of flush in her cheeks.

"Well, that's also good, darling." And as if she were distracted, she went on, "So, someone told me that you were into it the astrology thing now?"

"What?"

"Oh, well, Amanda told me that you were very, very interested in astrology this days." Claire smiled at her. "You know, like stars, galaxies, atrological signs, _butt birthmarks . . ._"

Yeah, Claire was happy, and being happy—because she just had caught Betty off guard—didn't make her a bad person, right?

Betty's face was a sight—eyes wide, full open mouth, her skin just like Daniel's purple tone. And was that a hickey on her ear?

"I . . ." Betty was at a loss for words.

"Oh, dear! _That's_ fascinating!" continued Claire, with a broad smile. "Have you talked with Daniel about _that_?

"With him?" asked Betty in a very high tone. "Why should I? I'm not that into stars or anything like that."

"Oh, Betty, don't be so shy," said Claire, reaching her arm. "I bet Daniel would be very happy to introduce you to astronomy. He was a very, very talented student in that subject at school!" And taking her hand to her mouth, like she was telling a secret, Claire said, "Actually, I have heard that he is an excellent teacher. What do_ you_ think?"

Betty let out a high little squeak when her cell phone started to ring.

"I'm sorry . . . hmm, I need to pick up," said Betty, almost running to the other side of the bathroom. "Hello?" She was whispering. "Yeah, no, I'm still here. No, I will be there in no time. Da-n…! Arg Yeah, well, I have my own problem here, so suck it up! I know, me too. Bye." She hung up.

"Well, Mrs. Meade" Betty turned to her with a cheerful voice and clapped her hands. "It has being such a huge pleasure to talk with you, but something came up and I have to go."

"Oh, no, my dear." The older woman approached her and gave her a hug. "The pleasure is mine. After all, you are practically family." With a smile on her face, Claire Meade left the room.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Amanda!" yelled Betty, mad, rushing into the office she shared with Marc. "I knew you would be here!"

"Betty . . ." Amanda was busy doing Marc's nails.

"Look who is here! The lost empanada en presente!"

"Marc, really?" asked Betty, "If you want to say something to me in Spanish, at least take some language courses!"

"Apparently . . ." He gave her a mischievous look. " . . . a hot and wild weekend was not enough to make you a happy girl."

"Amanda!" Betty and Marc shouted at the same time.

"Look what are you doing, woman!" Marc jumped out the chair, while the nail polish spilled out onto his pants.

"I can't believe this! You told everybody?" Betty was out of her mind, seeing red everywhere. "You promised me!"

"Look my pants, Amanda!" Marc's pants were ruined. "You are nev . . ."

"Marc, out!" said Betty.

"Excuse me?"

"I need to talk with Amanda, _in private._"

"Well, my little chimichanga, I thing we have a problem, because _this_ is my office, Amanda is _my_ candy." And then, completely desperate: "And I wanna know—whose is that amazing butt!"

"_Arg, spy me marc, spy me…"_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I can't believe this." Frustrated, Betty took seat in her desk, covering her face with her hands.

Now that she and Amanda were finally alone, Betty felt the weight of the day on her shoulders.

"I don't know what's the big deal," said Amanda. "I didn't say too much. Actually, I didn't say _that_ much."

Betty was tired and pissed. "You promised me that you wouldn't say a word. Now I have Claire Meade all over me, knowing! And sending mehidden messages! _Hidden messages, Amanda!_"

"OMG, BETTY!"

"Now what!"

"You didn't cover that hickey on your ear very well." Amanda said, holding out her bag. "Don't worry. Come here, I will help you with the make-up."

"Amanda!"

"Hmm. You love my name."

"Can you please take this thing seriously?"

"But I am! Just look at your skin tone and your powder tone—all a mess."

"Forget it!" said Betty, rushing out of her office, defeated.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_Last Sunday morning, 8 a.m._

"Hey," he whispered to her. Lying face down, he had Betty's arm draped across his back.

"Hey," she whispered to him. Their voices were raspy and sleepy, bodies relaxed, faces content.

"What a night, huh?" he said, smiling.

"What a night? I think, what a weekend . . ."

"Yeah." He tried to turn over, to pull her on top of him, but she stopped him.

"Don't. I'm so comfortable, just like this," she said stretching. "I like this side of you."

"So you like my butt?" he said seductively.

She grinned at him.

"Yeah, it's perfect . . . like in The 40 Year Old Virgin, this is just like two bags of sand." Betty said, making him laugh.

She reached down, her fingers caressing his right cheek butt. "I love this birthmark. How is that no one knows about this?"

"Well . . . " He hesitated. "I guess because I never let anyone see it."

"Come on, _that_ is impossible."

"No, it isn't." He smiled at her, his hand on her hair. "I never let myself be like this—like now, with _you_—with other women."

"Oh, that is such a lie." She laughed and began kissing her way down his back.

"You know, you are in a very dangerous zone. If I were you, I would be nicer . . ."

Biting his butt, she said, "If you dare to do something like that, believe me, you will be out of here in no time."

He gave her a charming smile. "You know . . . I'm starving. We didn't eat that lasagna last night."

"That is not _my_ fault," Betty said. "And, you know? Maybe I'm not hungry."

"Well, I am. So I will go to that mess of a kitchen, and cook something tasty." Daniel stood up, but Betty grabbed him by his waist, making him fall on top of her.

"You know something?"

"What?"

"You are in a very dangerous position right now." She went to his ear and whispered, "You sure you want to leave me alone in this bed?"

And in less than two seconds, Daniel was all over her neck.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I feel a little jealous, Betty," Daniel confessed, making her look up to him. There they were, in the same position they'd been in early that morning.

"Of what?"

"My butt." He stared at her. "In the last hour, you have paid more attention to my butt than to me."

"Don't be such a baby. In fact, I wasn't admiring your butt." She took a deep breath and said, "I was thinking about something my dad said to me when I was little."

"My butt makes you think about your dad?"

"No, silly, not your butt; your birthmark."

Knowing that Betty had something on her mind, Daniel decided to allow her to gather her thoughts.

"I never knew these stars as the Orion Belt. When I was little, I thought their real name was 'Tres Marías.' Then, in college, somebody told me their real name. And even though now I know they are the Orion Belt, I can't help but call them 'Tres Marías.'"

"Why?" he whispered. "Where that name came from?"

"I don't know. My dad said that there are hundreds of stories telling what's behind the name, but nobody knows for sure." She got lost in her thought for a moment. "I think it has something to do with religion."

Daniel didn't say a word.

"My mom told us that, one of the reason for the 'Tres Marías' name had something to do with loss and faith. But it depends on where you come from. Those who know them as such are from the Latin countries, or in my dad's case, Mexico."

"Why loss and faith?"

"Well, the story goes that a man lost his wife and twin daughters in a shipwreck during the Spanish Colonial period. It seems this man was in America waiting for the arrival of the ship with his family, but when the ship never arrived, he realized what had happened. He named the stars after his family—to heal the pain."

"But why María?"

"Hmm . . . his wife's name was Maria del Pilar, and their daughters' names were Marta María and José María."

"So, the three stars are his wife and two daughters?"

"Yeah. My dad says that the three stars are all men's women—their strength, love and purity."

"Wow . . ."

"Yeah." She looked at him, and added, "I love your butt."

Daniel laughed. "Me, too."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Amanda got to Betty's apartment that morning, the last thing she ever thought she'd see was the place in a shambles. In the kitchen, tomato sauce had splashed all over the counters, pots were everywhere, the kitchen table was a mess, clothes littered the floor.

The living room was better, but not much: a MODE issue peeking from under the couch, more clothes spread around, and more tomato sauce on the floor.

Judging from the sound of running water, Betty should be in the bathroom, and so Amanda went to Betty's room.

She and Betty were friends who shared everything. That's why Amanda had a copy of the keys to her apartment—when she needed something, Amanda always knew that Betty would be happy to share.

But in some cases, destiny had played a dirty trick, and that's why the last thing that Amanda ever hoped to see in Betty's bed was Daniel, only half covered.

She wasn't stupid. Years of chasing Daniel led her to know him very well, and something that she always knew—and she could swear no one else knew—was that he had a birthmark on his butt. And that butt in Betty's bed was definitely Daniel's.

Damn, what a butt.

Amanda was so shocked that she did not hear the shower turn off. She did not hear her friend come out of the bathroom and she definitely did not expect a stranger's hand to cover her mouth and strong arms to drag her to the living room.

That's why Amanda yelled and kicked and clawed at the stranger—Betty.

"Stop! Amanda, it's me!"

"Betty! OMG! Don't ever do that again!"

"My God, Amanda, what are you doing here!"

"I . . . just wanted one of your scarves, but when I got to your room . . ." And then she was speechless. Had that really been Daniel? When, how, why . . .?

"OMG, BETTY, THAT WAS DA . . ."

"Stop! Amanda, don't yell, please! Yeah, it is Daniel. Please don't say anything."

"How? When? Why? OMG! You guys have been doing the nasty all this time!"

"Don't yell!"

"Sorry, Betty, I'm in shock!" she whispered. "OMG! This is so good. Tell me everything! Does he like to go down, like with . . ."

"Amanda! I'm not going to tell you anything!" said Betty, frustrated. "What did you want in here?"

"Forget it. This is major. This is the Gossip Adonis. This is you making the Guadalajara poncho something hot, this is . . . I don't know, but this is it, OMG, I have to call Marc." Before Amanda managed to dial any number, Betty snatched the cell phone from her.

"You are not going to call Marc, and more importantly, you are not going to tell anyone about this." Betty's eyes were desperate. "Please, Amanda. Don't tell anyone about this."

After a few moments, which felt like hours, Amanda finally said, "Just for you, I will not say a word about you sleeping with _Daniel_."

"Really!" Betty jumped.

"Yeah, you are my bestie. But . . ." Now Amanda gave her a seductive smile. "I want some answers, so, let's do this, OK? I ask and you tell in short answers."

"Come on! You must be joking."

"I took some pictures. I can do a lot with those, you know." Amanda looked like an angel.

"OK, but you will not tell anyone about this!"

"Betty, I swear on my Prada shoes that I will not tell anyone about you sleeping with _Daniel._"

"OK."

"_When_?"

"Hilda's wedding night."

"_How_?"

"Five shot of tequila, four glasses of champagne, and who knows how many glasses of wine."

"_Why_?"

"I don't know! We just woke up the next morning, and we haven't being able to stop."

"OMG, so hot . . ." And with that, Amanda left Betty's place, swaying her hips on her way out the door.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_A few days later_

Claire loved Fridays. She loved them because she always ate dinner on Friday night with her children, or at least one of them. She always liked to leave work early and see what could she make for that night dinner, fix the dining kitchen table or—with hot weather, to serve outdoors on the terrace.

But today, Thursday, Claire loved Fridays even more because she knew that her son and Betty were an item, and she couldn't be happier.

Claire knew that Daniel would not admit his relationship with Betty in front of her—at least not for now—but this did not mean that Claire couldn't have fun and make jokes to her son about Betty.

Yes, Claire loved Fridays because now she could expect to see Betty at the next family dinner.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Hi, Mom." Claire heard when the elevator doors opened to reveal Daniel, ready to join her in the elevator.

"Son," she said. "I see that you are not playing with that toy anymore." He didn't have his iPad with him this Thursday afternoon.

"No, but don't worry, I will take it to your house on Friday." His face was relaxed, his eyes happy.

"I see you are in a good mood." Claire smiled at him. "Can I ask you why?"

"Oh, not too much. Well, maybe because of . . . astronomy." Was he making fun of her?

"I see . . ." If he was, she could play this game, too. "Well, will I see you and Betty tomorrow night then?" If Claire expected to see her son react nervously to her question, she was in for a surprise.

Daniel didn't say a word. He smiled at her, then looked up at the elevator's numbers. When the doors opened, he looked at her again.

"I don't think so. After all, we want to see if this weekend, we finally can eat lasagna." Daniel gave her a mischievous grin. "Bye, Mom, see you tomorrow."

And, with that, Daniel was out of the elevator, and Claire Meade stood there alone, her smile wide, in complete shock.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**I really hope you like it. The new chapter will be up soon. **

**Thoughts and comments will be amazing! they are my pay =)**

**Fer**


	3. Broken PHone, The White Couch

**Hi everyone! Thank you so much for all the reviews! You are amazing :)**

**Here is the third part of the fic, "The White Couch" Where we go back to the begining of "The Broken Phone". **

**Chapter 4 will be up next week!**

**Hope you all like it and thoughts and comments would be amazing =)**

**Enjoy!**

**Broken Phone, "The White Couch"**

Betty jumped out of bed at the sound of noises outside her apartment. Her building wasn't the most secure place on the block but this was the first time in all her years living there that she felt she could be in danger.

It wouldn't be Marc or Amanda arriving from a party because they both were away at a spa weekend at the Woodstock Inn. And it wasn't Jesse, because he had left the building a few months ago. So, knowing that it couldn't be Hilda and Bobby—they were on their honeymoon—or Justin who was staying over with Ignacio until Hilda returned, Betty reached for her bat.

The place was almost dark. The bedside table clock said 2 a.m. and just a few streetlights cast a glow across the place. A strong knock on her door let Betty know that someone did, in fact, want to get into her apartment. Shit, should she grab a knife or something?

Why, of all weekends, did Marc and Amanda need to be gone?

God. Just relax, Betty, she told herself. Everything is going to be OK. She went to the kitchen, trying to find her cell phone to call the police when the thing started to ring. Scared, Betty scanned the lighting screen and saw Daniel's picture.

She answered the phone: "Oh, God. Daniel! Help!"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**Flashback.**

"Oh, shit" Daniel's head hurt, his entire body felt like a victim of a train crash, his mouth was dry and he didn't dare open his eyes.

"Argh. Don't. Please don't move your leg like that," said Betty, her voice raspy like his.

Trying not to make any sudden moves, Daniel stretched, held firmly his grip on her waist and opened his eyes. There she was, naked with one arm hiding her face from the morning—or afternoon?—light. Her breasts and part of her body were half covered by the sheets, her butt tight against his lower belly.

Daniel could say that he was completely shocked to be stark naked with her, but he wasn't.

"Can you remember anything?" he whispered, hiding his face in her hair. She smelled so good.

"Yeah."

"God. You want to talk about it?"

"No."

Why not? This wasn't a bad thing. At least he didn't see it like that.

"I just need a very good sleep."

"You want me to go?" He hoped she would ask him to stay, because he wasn't able to move, and he just wanted to stay in bed with her.

"God. No." She held his grip tight against her. "Don't even think about moving. I'm too comfortable to even think about waking up and dealing with my hangover."

"You don't want to deal with this?"

"Maybe later. Now, I just need some sleep." She whispered, before passing out.

**End flash back**

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I'm so sorry, Daniel." Claire patted his arm, causing him to look at her in surprise while leafing through the takeout menus on his mother kitchen table.

"Why?"

"For all this" She pointed all the menus in front of them. "I forgot about our Friday dinner."

"Come on, Mom, we both knew that this could happen." He smiled at her. "I'm not surprised about the whole Tyler situation. I don't mind. Besides, I'm dying for Chinese food, and you don't cook that very well."

"Funny."

"You know I love you," he sang.

"I love you too, son." Claire ignored Daniel's giggle, while he had a sip of his wine. "So. Last Friday. How was it?"

"Good, very good." His cheeks held a hint of red. "I had a great time." Now, he grabbed an Italian takeout menu.

"Did you met someone new?"

"You could say so."

"And Betty, what did she think about it?"

"Why would she have to think something about it?"

"Well, she is your friend and it was at her sister's wedding."

Maybe he could ask for Italian takeout. Last Saturday, at Betty's house, the frozen lasagna they had eaten was disgusting. And, God, one thing that he loved was a good homemade lasagna.

"Well, she didn't say very much. I'll be honest with you, she didn't want to talk about it, either."

"Was she upset about it?"

That was something to consider. Could she be upset? No, Daniel didn't think so. They just hadn't had time all week to talk about it. And, if he was being honest with himself, last Saturday after they woke up, neither of them was as much into talking about things as they were into _doing_ things.

"Hmm, no, I don't think so."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**Flash Back.**

The second time Daniel woke up was Saturday evening and Betty wasn't in bed. This time, he was fully covered by her sheets and the room was almost dark with just a few reflections from the street lights. His hangover was gone and he was dying for something to eat.

Apparently Betty was, too, because from her bedroom, he could see she was in her kitchen wearing his boxers and one of her tiny t-shirts.

Putting his pants on, he went to meet her.

"So. I guess that in our case, the second time's the charm?" he said, startling her.

"Daniel!" She held a hand on her chest. "Don't do that again!"

"Sorry. How're you feeling?"

"Starving, but good." Betty could barely look at him and who could blame her? He was nervous, too. "You?"

"Amazing." He kept his tone cool and relaxed in an attempt to hide his panic. "But, yeah . . . starving, too. Hey, you have anything to eat?"

"Apart from all the booze and cake we brought last night?" She opened her freezer to see what was inside. "Just some frozen takeout."

"Hey! You have lasagna!" Daniel grabbed the tiny red box. "Let's eat it!"

"Really? I was thinking maybe we should call for pizza." Apparently she didn't like the idea of frozen lasagna at this time of night.

"I love lasagna."

"Yeah. Me, too, but I prefer the homemade, no the precooked kind."

"Well, me, too. But we have this, right?"

Fifteen minutes later, there they were on her bed with a microwaved lasagna, two white wine glasses and leftover wedding cake.

"Well. It wasn't that bad," said Daniel, leaving the fork on the lasagna plate.

"It was disgusting." Betty took a sip of wine.

"Yeah. It was." He laughed and grabbed her drink.

"Hey, that's mine!"

"Yeah, well . . . mine has lasagna pieces in it, because of _you_."

She just smiled at him and took a moment to look at him all relaxed—somehow, this felt completely new to her. Even though being with him like this could be awkward, Betty didn't feel like that at all. Last night had been somehow quite good. God. Who was she kidding? It was amazing. Not because he was her best friend or all that crap—sorry, she was a romantic but not the all-flowery kind of romantic—but because Daniel _really knew_ what he was doing.

Yeah, this was Daniel—her best friend, but honestly, even if after Monday all the awkwardness appeared, she would definitely be up for another night with him.

"Why did you say, '_In our case, the second time is the charm_?'"

"What? Haven't you ever heard the saying 'The_ third_ time's the charm?'" He looked up at her.

"No."

"Well . . . when you are doing things, and you fail again and again, you just say, 'The next one is the one' . . . well the saying goes, 'The third time, you will make it.'"

"OK." Betty chuckled. "And _why_ with us is it the second one?"

"Because this is the second time we went to a wedding together. And the first time, you said to me. "You should hook up with that bridesmaid." And in _this_ case I actually did_."_

"What!" yelled Betty in shok. "That is so not true!"

"What? Why!"

"Come on, Daniel. At the first one we didn't go to the wedding as guests; we crashed that party and I wasn't a bridesmaid. So this should be our first time."

"Oh, my." He went for her neck, laughing. "So this should be our loss of virginity? Because if it is I have to be thankful for not losing it under Disney sheets."

Betty moved her face, giving him more space on her neck. "Funny," she whispered. God, he knew what he was doing.

"I know," he said, before moving to her lips.

**End flash back**

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It had been three hours since dinner with his mom and there he was, sitting on a bench three blocks from Betty's apartment. Bottle of rum in his right hand and a bag of leftovers in his left.

His mom was a little bit upset when she saw him leaving early with the bottle of rum, but Daniel didn't know what to do besides drink. Although he hadn't told his mom about what happened between him and Betty last week, that didn't stop him from feeling like an idiot.

God. He wanted so desperately to be with her again.

Yeah, probably Hilda's speech at her wedding helped him work up the courage to take Betty back to her place and make love to her. But he wasn't stupid. He liked Betty, she was hot in her own way and even though she was his best friend he still wanted to be with her . . . And what sex they'd had! He loved her lips, her naked breasts and those dark nipples. How her skin tasted and, God, those moans.

Daniel opened the bottle of rum and took a sip.

Since last Friday night, Daniel knew that Betty with a little of alcohol could be so sexy and open that he would die to just do it all over again. But this time, he decided, no alcohol.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Oh, God. Daniel! Help!"

"Betty?" She heard Daniel call.

"Daniel, where are you?"

"Betty, I'm locked out!"

"What?" Where was he?

"Someone changed my locks!"

"Are you drunk?" All the fear of being robbed was now in the past.

"What?" Daniel voice was raspy and he was making no sense. "Argh, damn door." Another knock on her door.

"Daniel? Where are you?"

"At my apartment . . . well. If just this lock could just take my key!" This time, she heard a yell through her door.

"You must be kidding me." She went to her door. At that moment, a constant banging on the door scared her. "Daniel, you there?"

"Yeah."

"Please stop knocking the door with your head." Instantly, the sound stopped.

"Betty, I think this door hates me," he whispered, almost crying. "I don't want my door hating me. I need my clothes!"

Argh, Daniel, you and your drunk moments.

"No, Daniel." Betty opened her door, making him fall over on the floor in front of her, completely in shock. "It's my door."

"Betty? You changed my door?" He didn't understand. "What are you doing at my apartment?"

"This is my apartment, Daniel." Now she was mad. All that worry for nothing! Damn him!

"No, it is not," he said, trying to get on his feet. "This is my apartment." He pointed to the white couch on her living room. "That's my white couch."

"No." Betty took a deep breath. "That's _my_ white couch. The one you gave me, because I said that yours was amazingly comfortable, remember?"

"Yeah, but mine is better," he pointed out. "Mine is so soft and perfect to have sex on. And this one." He sat on it. "I can assure you this is mine."

"What?" She was in shock.

"Have you had sex on this one?"

"No!"

"So, yeah, this is my white couch."

"No, it is not!" She went over to him. "How much did you drink, Daniel?"

"I'm not drunk." He was offended.

"Daniel . . ." She warned.

"OK, so if this is your couch, why haven't you had sex on it?"

"I don't have to have sex on it to call it my couch."

"Yes, you do!"

"You are crazy and drunk."

"Argh . . ." Daniel stood up, and grabbed her by her waist. His hand slipped under her t-shirt. "How are you going to call it your white couch if you haven't have sex on it?"

"Because it is under my roof!"

"No, this could be your father's house and you wouldn't know. So you have to have sex on it to call it your couch."

"You are not making sense."

"Maybe not." he said, before kissing her and easing her down on the white couch.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Later that night, there they were, Daniel's head over her chest, his hands caressing one of her arms, his legs clasped with hers. No space on the couch.

"Daniel."

"Yeah?"

"Next time, don't pretend to be drunk to come in here."

He smiled at her. "I told you I wasn't drunk."

"Yeah, well. Scaring the hell out of me, trying to get in here, will not help you next time."

"Deal."

"So, can I call it my white couch now?"

"And when wasn't it yours?" he asked, making her laugh so hard she cried. "Betty?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time, I will bring you some good lasagna."

"Deal."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	4. Blind Date

**Hi Everyone! Sorry for the delay posting this new chapter! But here you have it! :)**

**This is for the June B&B Community Challenge, the second part will be posted this Sunday!**

**Guys! Thank you so much for your comments! I really hope to know your thought about this new one!.**

**Enjoy :)**

**Tito's Pizza Friday Night, 19:00.**

"I don't know, Hilda," said Betty, trying to smooth her clothes in front of one of the mirrors in the Tito's Pizza restrooms. "This is too much. I should go home."

Hilda, who was powdering her nose, gave her a harsh look. "Hey, mamita, don't even think about it. You need this and you know it!"

"Come on, I surely don't need this. I'm very happy with my life at the moment."

"What? Oh, no, you don't" A hand pushed Betty down onto one of the sofas in the adjoining lounge. "Betty! You aren't living your life! Since my wedding, I barely see you. You are always working, you are always tired and you are always with Daniel!"

"Yeah. OK, but that doesn't mean that you had to set me up on a blind date!"

Betty was upset—this was Hilda's craziness at its highest level. Two nights ago, after a date with Daniel, her sister turned up to surprise her at her apartment because she wanted a girls' night—_"Mami, I missed you. Let's have pizza night!"_ What was she supposed to say? That at that moment Daniel was as naked as the day Claire brought him to the world, hiding under Betty's bed? Oh, God, that was a very long hour.

But what made her this mad was that, out of nowhere, Hilda thought that her baby sister needed to get laid! "_Mami, when was the last time that you got it?"_ She had ask. God, if she only knew that at that precise moment, a man was under her bed.

It took her an entire hour to convince Hilda that she wasn't in need, and it still took Hilda just five minutes to convince Betty to go on a blind date set up by her.

Later, with Hilda out of her apartment and a clearly mad Daniel under her covers, Betty only said, "At least she isn't here anymore. Right?"

And now, in the ladies' room at the pizzeria, Betty and Hilda awaited the arrival of Bobby and Betty's blind date.

"Betty, Antonio is a great guy!" Hilda said. "Young, handsome, an athlete and, I have heard, very, very good for a one night stand!"

"But I don't need a one night stand, Hilda!"

"Yes, you do! Come on, look at you, all stressed out. Nope, tonight you are gonna get it. Even if I have to pay for it."

"Argh—you are impossible."

"Yeah, well, I just care for you, Betty," said Hilda, her tone shrill and annoying. "Let's go! Antonio should be already with Bobby!"

This was going to be a very, very long night.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**Previous Thursday, 14:30.**

"Did I thank you already for your help, man?"

"What?" Daniel heard Bobby's voice, dulled by the noise of working tools under his car. "Ah, yeah, of course, man. No problem. But with your car? Absolutely another story."

"What?" asked Daniel, seated on his BMW hood, beer in hand.

"This is a mess. Why didn't you take it to the repair shop?"

"Those bastards. I always feel like they try harder to destroy my car than fix it."

"Yeah. Damn rats. I know what you mean. But you did right! I'm the master of this place."

Daniel chuckled a little with his beer. He already knew about Bobby's reputation in Queens. Betty had been good enough to update him on all her family background. "Yeah, Betty already told me about your fame around here." He said in a casual tone "And besides, I felt like trying this time with the family, don't you think?"

Maybe this was too risky, he thought. What was he doing? After a few minutes of silence, Bobby said, "Just stories, man. Hey, pass me one of those beers. I'm dying under here."

"Dark or light?"

"Uff, don't tell anyone, but I like the light one more. Any cold ones in there?"

"Yep. So big Bobby has a soft side? I never would have guessed." This was fun, thought Daniel. Hanging like this with Bobby. It just felt right and comfortable. And, in some twisted way, it reminded him of his times with Alex when they were kids.

"Shut up! Like you don't like girly drinks." Well, apparently Betty had been good enough to update _his_ information with her family, too.

"Yeah, I'll keep your secret if you keep mine." Daniel smiled at him.

Bobby took a sip of his beer. "What secret?"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"So. Betty told me about her blind date." Daniel tried to maintain a relaxed tone.

"Oh, God. My damn wife," said Boby, a new beer in hand. "Don't get me wrong. I love Hilda, but that woman? When she gets something in her head, she can't stop it until it's done. And damn, yeah, I'm happy _not_ to be her target this time."

This was interesting . . .

"What do you mean?" Daniel laughed.

"The Suarez women, that's what I mean. And after all these years hanging out with Betty, you should know better."

"Yeah. But a blind date?"

"Don't look at me, I'm just the one in charge to select a good man that can fulfill all the expectations." Bobby shivered.

"You're kidding!"

"No! With the Suarez sisters? Nothing but the best for Betty." There wasn't any argument for that.

"You are absolutely right. She needs the best," Whispered Daniel, playing with a screwdriver. "So, Who is this guy?"

"Toño!"

Daniel's face was incredulous, because a name like that was the most hilarious thing he had ever heard.

"You know! Antonio's nickname," said Bobby.

No change in Daniel's expression. "I'm sorry, but you have to admit that it's a very funny name."

"Yeah. It is. But he is anything but funny."

"Really..."

"Absolutely. 31 years old, my hight, dark eyes, athletic guy, hot body, karate teacher, and how about this for a Betty kind of guy? The man loves to read."

"Oh, I see." Daniel felt the blood cross his body. His stomach burned. "That's cool. But you think Betty will go for all that?"

"My chipmunk? Yeah, probably. I guess. I don't know."

"I just don't get it, man"

"Well, Hilda said that it's because Betty need some distractions from work. You should know, right? Since our wedding, you guys have being working even on weekends!"

Daniel didn't know what to say to that. Bobby was right—sort of. Since Hilda's wedding, they had been over each other's apartments almost constantly. Was Daniel complaining? No. Actually, he loved it and if it were up to him, they would already be an item. An official one. And if he thought about it, maybe Hilda was right. He and Betty could both use some vacation time with no family around. Nobody chasing them on weekends, nosing around in their business.

"Maybe Hilda is right," he said. "In a few weeks, my mom is going to have a photo shoot in the south of Chile—you ever heard of General Carrera Lake? Is one of the most amazing place in Latin America, where under the water you can find these amazing ancient marble cathedrals where you can actually get married there just one time a year, because only then the water is its lowest level, exposing the underground caves where you can go into."

"Wow, really! Isn't that the place with the giant glaciers?"

"Yep."

"Wow, You should totally do it. But wouldn't that be like work?"

Ok, thought Daniel, now or never.

"Yes, if you just look at the writing part. I know that Betty would love to write about this place. The ecological war and the fight of the people to maintain this natural landmark. Actually, the shoot is about that war, but with a fashion focus."

"Great, but it's still work."

"Well, it wouldn't be if I ordered the Meade jet two days early and scheduled our return for two days later." For Daniel, it would be so easy to let his imagination fly. Betty and him, alone there with nobody else and not a care in the world. "She could take those four days as vacation time."

"That would be amazing for her! Yeah! Daniel, do it! I know my chipmunk would love it."

"I know, right? I'm even thinking about hiring a massage therapist for us."

"For us? Wha . . .?"

Perhaps Daniel could have made his intentions even clearer, but Bobby's silence and his "oh, shit" expression made it clear that, yes, Bobby had caught on.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**Tito's Pizza Friday Night, 20:00.**

"So Toño, Boby told me that you are pretty popular with your Karate lesson" Said Hilda, pouring more wine in Toño's glass.

For the past twenty minutes Hilda had been more flirting with Betty's blind date than focussing in her own husband. Not that Betty would cared about this, but wasn't this date more for her than for her sister?

Toño was definitly a terrific guy, tall and amazingly dip dark-eyes. Dressed casually in a sport black shirt with matching jeans that -yeah Betty must accept, fitted very well with his butt. His black hair was not too short but neither too long letting him to put some of it behind his ears.

And with just one look Betty knew that, if it wasn't for Daniel, she wouldn't have problem to follow her sister blind date charade. The issue here was that even remembering -she was with Daniel, she couldn't avoid to fall -just a little bit, in toño's charm.

With his perfect smile and glancing at her Toño said. "Well I try to do my best with that, I love karate and my students helps me a lot."

"Sinces when you give karate lessons?" Betty asked.

"I started at 18 to make some money. You know how is it at that age. I wanted to buy a car, to travel, get independent and hang out with the buddies. And for that I needed funds." He patted Boby's arm. "But four years ago I started to teach it free for kids in the neighborhood. I want them to stay out of trouble."

Yep, she thought. All a charming guy.

"That's very thoughtfull of you." He focussed on her.

"You think? Well maybe that's because me and boby were one of those kids." Toño gave Boby's a malicious glance. "My friend here doesn't have his reputations for nothing."

"Come on, man!" Said Boby. "What are you doing? My wife is here!" His arm tight around Hilda's shoulder.

"Please! As if that wasn't old news." Hilda laughed "A few month ago our house got burned and I thought it was his fault. What should I have thought, uh? He is the one with the family in the Mafia."

"Back again with that woman? That was Betty's fault!" He gave her a distressed look. "Sorry Chipmunk."

Maybe it was Toño's laught, is arm around her shoulders, his perfect moisturized skin, and those deep dark-eyes making fun of Boby that made Betty got to relax against his blind date and enjoy the _burning house_ joke. -Or maybe it was just the cool and relaxed pizzeria atmosphere, the almost finished glass of wine and the idea of a hot, family size pizza -extra cheese and garlic, before heading home with Daniel after a good date night with her sister, boby and Toño.

Maybe, Hilda was right, she needed to get out more with her friends and family. And even if she wasn't interested in Toño -at least no more than the usual first look effect, this date was actually great.

"This must be a joke!" Hilda's whisper got Betty out of her dreams.

"Betty?" She heard a surprised and happy voice at her back. Boby, who in just one second was ready and looking for more chairs, gave the other man a hug.

"What are you doing here, man? It's been a while since the last time we saw you!" And there he was, dark jeans, white shirt, black leather jacket. Eager and seductive Meade smile. "Come on! sit with us! Hilda." Boby sent her a nervous look. "Move. Lets make some space."

"Oh. Don't worry, We wouldn't want to interrupt your dinner. Chris and I just came to grab some slices." Said Daniel, His gaze never leaving Toño's arm around Betty's shoulder.

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

**Thoughts?**

**Fer ;)**


	5. Blind Date Part2

**Hi everybody, long time! Sorry for being late but in a moment of nostalgic I decided to see some of my old stories and realized I never updated this last chapter of The Broken Phone. I am really sorry.**

**I am thinking about update two new chapters to finish this and I am half way but I would love to know what do you guys think about it and if you really want to see more.**

**Thanks to everyone who sent comments this past year without me updating this story, I really appreciated it. Comments are always good for a writer soul **

**Fenyx**

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Damn him, Betty thought. Damn him. Damn him. Damn him.

This was just, arch . . . nope. There were no words for what was happening, and this was all his fault.

First of all, he showed up out of nowhere in the middle of her blind date. How had he even found out where she was? She didn't have a clue, but the fact was, here he was and, worst of all, dressed to kill. He looked hot.

That white shirt? That was his favorite shirt—the one for his date-hunting occasions. It had been a while since the last time she saw him wearing it—if she was correct, since Renee. And now he was using it!

Those jeans? They had bought those together when he'd lost his others during their hot lasagna date. Oh, God. Yeah, those jeans were perfect for him and the problem was that this was the first time he'd ever worn them, aside from when they where at the store making sure they fit him well—and yes, they did fit him well. That day in the store, he had whispered in her ear, "Next time I wear these, it will be because I want to drag you to my apartment and never let you out of there." That was a month ago.

She would definitely kill him later tonight.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Oh, come on, man," insisted Bobby, dragging Daniel closer to the table. "Just one slice. This place is the best. You can never have just one slice. Come on! Sit with us." Then, turning his attention to Daniel's friend, he said, "Hey! You are that yoga teacher! In the same building as Toño's karate courses!"

"Yes," the guy said—perfect smile, short blond hair, green eyes, perfect tanned skin, about Bobby's height.

"You must be Bobby. Daniel here was telling me about you." He smiled at him, placing his left hand in Toño's arm, making him stop hugging Betty. "Hi Ant, how are you?" His eyes were soft and nice.

"Hey!" Toño's voice was high. His glass of wine was completely empty. "What are you doing here!" He didn't get up.

"Not much. Just finished today's class. I was surprised when my best student didn't show up." Now he patted Daniel's back. "But don't worry, Daniel here made up for you."

"What?" Betty, snapping out of her daydream, looked at Daniel. "Since when you do yoga?"

Hilda, seeing this was a lost cause, spoke up. "OK, I'm starving. Mami, let's get on with this date."

"You know what?" said Daniel in a relaxed tone. "I just changed my mind. Chris, you wanna stay and eat here?" And just like that, Daniel took another chair and pulled it up next to Betty. "May I, Hilda? I need some room to sit." His smile was big, his eyes angelic.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Betty said yes to this charade, she never expected to end up on a blind date with Daniel sitting next to her, with Hilda shooting daggers at him and Daniel responding with childish eyes and a knowing smile. Her actual date, Toño, was more focused on his pizza slice than he was her. Daniel's friend, now sitting next to Toño, was in the middle of a debate about the positive effects of yoga on pregnant woman.

"So," asked Bobby, now looking at Daniel, "since when do you guys know each other?"

"What?" Betty was confused. "You know since when, Bobby."

"Not you, Chipmunk. I mean, Daniel and Chris."

With a garlic pizza in his hand, Daniel said, "Just from today. When I went to take this yoga class that my mom insisted I take."

"I never heard your mom saying that." Betty sounded suspicious.

"Oh yes, she did. Actually a lot." He smiled at Betty, giving her a pizza slice with garlic. "You don't have anyone to kiss tonight, right? So you can eat this. It is actually pretty great." His tone was happy.

"Well, that was the main idea for tonight's date," said Hilda, grabbing the garlic pizza slice.

"Hilda!" yelled Betty. God this was a nightmare. If it weren't Daniel's indirect messages, it was her sister's direct ones!

"Wow! Let's relax everyone! Hilda, if Betty wants a pizza with garlic, let her have it!" Bobby smiled at Daniel. "So, man, you were saying . . ."

"Oh, yes." Daniel poured more wine in Betty's glass. "I met Chris and we started talking about work, family—and romance. You know?"

Betty and Toño choked.

"About my mom saying me that I never have time for family and that I'm always working. Like . . . " He glanced at Hilda. "You're always working, you're always stressed out, you never have time for your family now. And, of course." He took a sip of his wine. "She thinks that I need to get laid. But because I'm a changed man and don't go and screwing around with just any woman, she thought I needed to take some yoga courses to do something with my life."

At this, Hilda got pale, and Chris laughed a bit.

Daniel continued. "And, well, Chris and I were having a great time talking about how to reduce stress and how to avoid annoying family members and so . . . here we are, hungry and wanting some pizza."

Hilda coughed. "And of all places in the entire world, you ended up here. What a coincidence."

"Well, last time I talked to Bobby, he mentioned this place. So, thanks man, because it's really great."

Maybe he was just being mean. Bobby didn't need this. But Daniel was so upset that he wanted to mess with Hilda. Giving Bobby an apologetic glance, he continued. "But don't worry, Hilda. I don't think this is going to happen that often, right? I mean, how many times would you need to try to get your sister laid. Right?"

"Whoaaah . . . what?" Toño, who at that moment was whispering something to Chris, turned around to see Betty, who was pale. "Betty, I'm sorry . . . Oh, shit. Look, I really think you are a wonderful person. Pretty and hot. But I have to tell you, I don't think that _that_ would happen. I mean, I just _can't._" He was whispering, close to her.

"What? Why not?" asked Hilda, in shock. She was clearly upset.

"Well . . . " Apparently, this was difficult for him. Looking at Chris and then smiling at Betty, Toño said, "I'm gay. Chris here is my _boyfriend._"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

She was going to kill him, she was going to kill him so badly. How could he? God, Bobby was a dead man!

"You." Hilda whispered at Bobby. Dead tone. "Kitchen. Now."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Seeing Hilda dragging her husband away from the table, headed who knew where, Daniel took another slice of pizza and smiled at Chris.

When Bobby had told him about Toño's karate courses yesterday afternoon, Daniel figured he'd go over there and meet some woman who could help him get Toño off Betty's map. He never expected to find an other man leading Toño's class—a man who normally taught yoga and was actually Toño's boyfriend.

Now, apparently, everyone at the studio knew that Toño was gay, except of course his closest friend—Bobby. So when Daniel found out that Chris was Toño's boyfriend, Daniel knew that this was a winning move.

He told Chris everything about Betty and Hilda—the whole story. How he and Betty had tried to keep this secret, how for the past few weeks their families had bugged them for more time and how that had begun to complicate things.

Yes, Daniel had fallen in love with Betty. She was sexy, smart, elegant, cheesy, his best friend. Maybe his mom could say that this was happening because they where having amazing sex. But in reality, Daniel was seeing Betty, that friend he had known for four years, through new lenses. He found a more passionate woman, who was there for him, who he could tell everything. A woman who one minute was treating him like a child and the next, like the most hot and wild man in the world.

Wait . . . yes, his mom was right. What better way to take a relationship to its highest level than with sex? In this case with Betty. She already was his best friend. Now they needed something more, and that thing was, this past three months.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Yes, Daniel was having a great time. Until Toño and Chris had decided to go home because they need some time alone. Until Hilda and Bobby were lost in the kitchen. Until it was just Betty and him, now alone at the table with nothing but a cold garlic pizza.

Yeah, Daniel had been having a great time—until he saw Betty's face, pale with red eyes. She hadn't said a word.

Carefully he put a finger on her chin.

"Betty," he said.

"Why did you do it?" She still wasn't looking at him. "Why did you put me through this, if you knew that Toño was gay?"

Time for the truth, he thought.

"Because I'm tired of this. Betty. You were going on a blind date, when you were with me," he said, taking her hand, trying to make her look up at him.

"But you didn't have to do what you did. You put me through hell with my sister. I told you that this was for my sister, not for me. And worst of all . . ." But she stopped there, not wanting to talk to him.

"Worst of all what, Betty? You did this to yourself. I know that your sister can be annoying some times, but when you are with someone, you play all your cards for that person. You don't try to see if there could be a new one."

"What?" Finally, Betty glanced at him. "Another one? You and me together?" Her breath was sharp and her eyes more dark and full of life. "Sorry, Daniel, but the last time I checked, you and I were just having sex. Good sex, but still, just sex."

His stomach ached. "It wasn't just sex, Betty, and you know it."

"Well, Daniel, how am I supposed to know? We haven't exactly talked about it."

"What?"

"Daniel. Yes, we have a really great time together. God, the sex isn't the only thing great between us! I laugh with you, I can talk with you, I love to just sleep with you! But, what am I supposed to think, when we haven't even talked about it?" She took his hand in hers. "Daniel, Hilda didn't know about you! What was I supposed to say? I never came here expecting to find someone new!"

"Well . . . why didn't you tell her, huh?" His tone serious. "My mom knows, Amanda knows, why wouldn't your sister?"

"Your mom found out because you are a terrible liar! And Amanda? Come on! Daniel, I haven't seen you trying to tell the world about us, apart from today. And you think that I want to find another one? What you just did—I didn't deserve this. I wasn't doing anything wrong, because we haven't defined anything!"

"OK," he said with resolution in his voice. "You want to talk?"

"Yes, let's talk."

"OK, we are gonna talk. Like. Right now."

"OK."

"Great." And they sat there, no one throwing the first rock.

"So?" asked Betty. "You gonna start? You are the one who wanted to talk about it."

He still sat there in shock. "I . . . well. Yeah, we need to talk. We need to decide what's going on. Because . . . I don't like the idea of you on blind dates."

"He was gay. What's the big problem with a gay blind date?"

"Nothing, when you know that the other person is, in fact, gay."

"Daniel. Get to the point please."

Maybe Betty was expecting him to make a big speech professing his love for her. Or maybe she was expecting from him to understand that she didn't do anything wrong. Maybe, Betty just wanted to move on, to just go to one of their apartments and cuddle with him and forget about this stupid blind date.

But what Betty got: a hot, slow and passionate kiss.

She did not care where she was, what was happening and why they were arguing. Betty also didn't mind that a few feet away, her sister was watching her being devoured by Daniel. She didn't care that, again, they weren't talking about their current situation.

And when they finally broke apart, they heard Hilda.

"So, do I want to know about this?"

Neither of them dared to look up at her.

"Do I need to remind you what are you? Because, co-workers—definitely not."

And in matter of microseconds, Betty saw it. Daniel's fear. Closed expression. No emotions in his eyes. No breath. Waiting for her.

She smirked. "You know what, Hilda? This date sucked. And I, for one, would love to have it end on a high note. As you said, maybe I need to get laid. But for future reference, I'm already doing that—with my boyfriend."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

**Thanks for taking your time with this one :) Hope you enjoy it and let me know what you guys thought about it and if you wanr more.**

**Fer**


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